


Wild Thoughts

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Severus Snape, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drug Use, Hand Jobs, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Harry, Pining, Rimming, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: Harry is falling apart and Severus is excellent at pretending he couldn't care less. But there are other forces at work which lead them back to one another and help them find exactly what they need.





	Wild Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an unusual take on A/B/O. The fic isn’t set within a wider Omegaverse, it’s more of a mating/soulmates story with some A/B/O related dynamics. In any event, I hope you enjoy reading it! Thanks to the mods for running this excellent fest and to A for the SPaG check.

It happens once, just after the war. Severus is working late as usual and Potter comes into his small Ministry office without knocking. He closes the door behind him and Severus takes in Potter’s ragged appearance, the grime and blood on his hands and his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Potter. To what do I owe this pleasure?” Severus puts down his quill and moves to Potter. He looks as though he’s going to fall over, his face pale and wretched. 

“Please.” Potter takes greedy gulps of air as if there’s not enough between them to fill his lungs. His voice is rough and he’s shaking so hard he can’t seem to get the words out. The next thing Severus knows, he’s against the desk and Potter’s lips are hot and hard against his.

They’re not friends. Barely even polite acquaintances, but the need rolls off Potter in waves and it’s impossible to resist. It’s been so long, for Severus. So long without a warm body undulating beneath his own and the hard, firm kisses of a lover wrapping around him like a blanket. Potter’s so young. Barely eighteen with his whole life ahead of him, and yet. He still possesses the kind of reckless confidence often exhibited by Gryffindors and he seems intent on his goal. Severus has rarely been anyone’s goal and his body is too tired to push Potter away as it responds with embarrassing readiness to every lick and flick of Potter’s tongue. Severus _wants_ this. The realisation that he wants Potter assaults him and the kisses become brutal, fiery things which leave them both ragged and breathless. Potter’s pulse thuds beneath Severus’ fingers and his taste is intoxicating enough to make the room spin. Severus puts down the fact his senses are so perfectly attuned to Potter to a long drought, and sinks into him without further question or concern. It is rare beautiful things are offered to Severus and in this case, he has precious little interest in fighting against them.

They barely undress, tugging at material just enough to grind against one another. They explore the bits of hot skin they can reach with their hands and tongues. Potter jerks his climax into Severus’ hand, still pressed tightly against him. For Severus the hot, wet bliss of Potter’s mouth brings his completion. When they finish, Potter sits back on his heels and looks up, from his position on the floor. His cheeks are flushed, pink with hope. Severus knows better than to hope. Potter should know better, too. Severus wonders if he will learn that, in time.

Severus casts an abrupt cleaning spell and tidies himself up. In the aftermath, shame claws through him and he can almost see James Potter sneering at him. Severus swore to himself that he would never let James Potter’s son get under his skin and no amount of impromptu fucking because Potter’s got an itch that needs scratching will change that. Even if Potter has made several recurring appearances in Severus’ fantasies since the war. Even if something fierce makes his chest tight and his heart hammer in his ribcage, when he allows himself a momentary indulgence, sweeping his eyes over Potter’s handsome face and delectable body.

Because Severus is a man of principle, he pushes his romantic delusions to one side and speaks waspishly. “Get out, Potter.”

Potter looks as though he’s been slapped, his face blanching. His jaw tightens and his cheek flexes. He runs a hand through his hair and casts the same spells as Severus, tidying himself. He stands and stares at Severus, his voice tight when he finally speaks. 

“We need to talk about something.”

“I can’t imagine anything so pressing we have to talk now.” Severus puts up the mask he’s so accustomed to wearing around Potter and keeps his voice clipped and firm. A wave of inexplicable fury passes through him because he simply cannot allow Potter to worm his way under Severus’ skin, no matter how good his kisses might taste.

Potter turns away as if it hurts to look at Severus. “There’s a problem-”

“Isn’t there always where you’re concerned?” Of course, this wouldn’t just be a momentary pleasure. Of course, it would be driven by Potter’s propensity for getting himself into trouble. Severus smooths his clothes and Potter gets a tight, pinched expression. He meets Severus’ gaze again, wild-eyed and uncertain. He seems to be struggling with himself and finally he presses his lips into a slim line.

“Forget it. I don’t know why I thought it might be different. I don’t need your help. I don’t need _anyone_.” Potter grabs his wand with trembling hands and before Severus can say anything further, he disappears with a _crack_.

Severus stares at the spot Potter recently vacated. His lips are still numb and well-kissed and his chest feels unusually tight. His side pains him and he rubs it, trying to ease the unexpected flash heat which makes the scar tissue burn beneath his robes. The bite hasn’t hurt for months and Severus grips his desk as the ache rolls through him in waves. Potter’s magic still lingers. A strange longing almost has Severus chasing after Potter, a temptation which he quashes with a stern word to himself. The moment passes and he determines to think no more of it. 

Potter doesn’t come back to work at the Ministry again and Severus doesn’t ask why.

When he reflects on that night years later, Severus notes how quickly beginnings can get cut off before they have a chance to flourish into stories. The beginnings that turn into endings before the protagonist can say a word.

Severus doesn’t see that moment as the beginning, not anymore. It was a blip out of time with the rest of the story – a fissure – a crack in their universe. He’s not sure when the real story begins. Two years later, when Bill Weasley shows up on the doorstep of Spinner’s End. Or maybe six months after that, when Severus has the truth in his hands and Harry Potter starts to fall apart at the seams.

*

The thing about drowning is it’s slower than people think. That ache to burst above the surface and heave in air, the desperate scrabble of hands stretching up towards the sun. Severus remembers choking on his own blood at the end of the war and sometimes he wakes unable to breathe and clawing at the sheets. Severus has lost friends and lovers in the blink of one perfectly aimed _Avada Kedavra_. He’s watched people succumb to merciless Muggle ailments no potion can remedy. He’s watched friends choke on blood, water and air. Severus knows what a drowning man looks like.

After Bill’s visit, Severus reads the papers and slips into the bars frequented by Potter. He listens to the conversations and he has some of his own. He gathers enough information to start to put the pieces of his jigsaw together. It’s a painstaking process and in his frustration, he wonders if it’s taking too long – if it’s too little too late.

When he thinks he finally has the details he needs to begin his peculiar rescue mission, Severus leaves the house in casual Muggle clothes. He rubs his hands against the cold and watches the clouds moving through the sky. He hopes he gets there in time, because some people seem to think Potter’s lungs are already full of water. Others sailed their lifeboats away long ago, leaving Potter with a piece of broken driftwood at the mercy of the wild sea. Severus expects they don’t think someone like Potter needs help. He’s famous and adored. To the Muggles he’s just another beautiful boy with a cheeky smile and a firm torso. He doesn’t have to work and he spends his nights dancing for as long as they’ll keep the music playing. 

Severus understands. He spent his own years in Muggle London and he knows the lure of the parties and the heavy beat of the late-night clubs. He also knows how loud the silence becomes when the music stops. He’s not so jaded that he can’t remember the days when breathing air felt no easier than breathing water.

With Bill Weasley’s last plea ringing in his ears, Severus makes his way into London.

*

It doesn’t take long to find Potter with his faltering glamour and sloppy behaviour. Severus has spent enough time observing him to know his ritual. Dancing, drinking and Merlin knows what else until the clubs’ close. Then it’s on to the saunas. The saunas with their chipped paint, dirty showers and the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the hot air. Severus has been there once or twice himself. He sees Potter flirting with someone who looks off his face. Severus purses his lips and pushes through the crowd, sending a light hex in the direction of Potter’s paramour to get him to disappear.

“Potter. What a surprise.” Severus tries to sound bored. He takes in the flickering glamour and makes sure no one’s watching before muttering a swift _Finite_. He wants to look at Potter’s face, not some poorly constructed mask which makes Potter look bland and uninteresting.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Potter folds his arms. “This is a gay bar.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you.” Severus orders two beers and passes one to Potter. “It may surprise you to learn I’ve been to places like this before.”

“You have?” Potter looks distrustful. Severus doesn’t miss the way his eyes are shadowed and his jaw clenches. He sweeps his eyes over Severus and pink blooms in his cheeks. He looks away and pulls a face. “Who sent you?”

“No one.” It’s not strictly true, but Severus is here of his own volition for the most part so the half-truth rolls easily off his tongue. “Your behaviour after the war has become public spectacle. I’m merely here to see if the rumours are true. The ones in the press.” Severus leans closer. “The ones they are trying to keep _out_ of the press.”

“What rumours are those, then?” Potter’s voice falters. “The ones about me doing what every other bloke in their twenties can do without constant interrogation? Because that’s all it is. Just nights out, having fun.”

“I couldn’t care less about the drink.” Severus pauses and he gives Potter a loaded look. “The _drugs_. The men. If you wish to treat your life with such reckless disregard I have little desire to stop you with tender platitudes and counselling. You will not be told that you _should not_ or _cannot_ because you’re clearly determined to do exactly as you please.”

Potter runs his hand through his hair and his jaw works. “If that’s how you feel, let me get on with it.” He pushes close to Severus, swaying slightly. His breath is hot, sweet and his eyes flash in the lights from the club. His eyes are glazed and his cheek twitches. Severus doesn’t know what drug of choice Potter’s put into his bloodstream tonight, but he’s taken something. “If you’re here for old time’s sake I know somewhere if you’re interested, _Professor_.”

Severus makes an irritated sound and he puts his hand on Potter’s shoulder, keeping him at a distance. “I’m aware of the kind of establishments you favour these days. I suppose you imagine I’m flattered to be propositioned by a former student high as a kite on Muggle chemicals?”

Potter has the decency to look chagrined. He shakes his head and digs in his pocket. He pulls out a small glass bottle which shimmers under the lighting and tips it down his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he throws his head back. His hands shake. Severus tries not to react to the sinewy lines of Potter’s profile or the fact Potter makes a far more appealing adult than he does child, even when he’s creating yet more problems for Severus.

“Not high as a kite anymore.” Potter wipes the back of his mouth and puts the empty bottle in his pocket. “It’s a potion to counter everything else. It wipes it from my system. Helps with a hangover too.”

Severus narrows his eyes. His stomach rolls because _no_ , Potter. The damn potion is more addictive and dangerous than Potter’s reckless purchases from unnamed Muggle dealers when he’s looking for an extra high. 

“Idiot.” Severus hisses into Potter’s ear and yanks his arm. “You know the possible side-effects of regularly taking a potion like that? They-”

“I don’t need a lecture.” Potter cuts off Severus, shaking himself loose. “I’m just trying to have a good time.” His eyes are wild and he looks pained, his mouth drooping momentarily. “Can’t you just let me get on with it?”

“Not tonight.” Severus keeps his eyes on Potter. “I need to you come with me. I believe we’re long overdue a talk.”

“I bet I won’t get a blowjob if I go with you,” Potter mutters. He scuffs his toe on the floor and he looks embarrassed. It’s awkward, like the observation was intended to be a joke but it just ends up sounding sad. 

“Unlikely, if you continue behaving like a brat.” Severus gives Potter a look. He’s certain the night won’t end with he and Potter tearing off one another’s clothes. There’s too much between them. Too much history. Too much unspoken and too much ill-defined on the cusp of an unknown future.

Potter hiccups and he gives Severus a confused look. “ _Very_ unlikely, I’d say. I still remember how successful the last one was. I’d rather not be kicked out on my arse again, if it’s all the same to you.”

Severus turns his eyes to the ceiling. The lights flash and the music pounds around them. “Another matter for us to discuss. Are you going to come with me, or not?”

“Okay.” Potter’s voice gets quiet and Severus can hardly hear him over the _thump-a-thump_ of the bass and the Muggles singing and laughing. Potter sounds younger than ever, unexpectedly compliant. “Let’s go.”

Severus leads them out of the club and down the busy streets, walking in silence through the revellers and the noise.

*

They find a place quiet enough to Apparate from and Severus takes Potter’s arm. They twist through the night and end up at Spinner’s End. Potter looks around curiously as Severus opens the door and nudges him in.

“Tea?”

“Anything stronger?” Potter flashes Severus a hopeful look.

“You’ve only just sobered up.” Severus wouldn’t mind a whisky but he also doesn’t want a drunk, maudlin Potter on his hands. This conversation is likely to need a little more finesse. 

“You sound like Molly Weasley.” Potter sighs. “Whatever. Tea’s fine. Two sugars and plenty of milk, please.”

Severus tries not to wince. He drinks in the sight of Potter and then puts the water on to boil with a flick of his wand. “You’re better letting the drink and drugs leave your system naturally than try to counter the effect with Knockturn Alley potions that should be illegal.”

Potter pulls a face. “Did you bring me here just so you could lecture me about bad choices? Because two can play at that game.”

Severus huffs and he scowls at Potter. “I couldn’t care less what you choose to do with your life, Potter. I simply resent you lining the pockets of unregistered potions traders with precious little skill and woeful knowledge of their craft.”

Potter shrugs. “It’s not like I’m on speaking terms with any registered potions traders these days. I bet you disapprove of the partying, too.”

“No.” Severus shakes his head. “I’ve already told you I have more pressing concerns than whether you get pissed as a newt.” He stirs the tea and hands Potter a mug, leaning back against the counter. “Although the drugs are foolish. I know what you’re taking.”

“You do?” Potter looks uncertain, sipping his tea and wincing as it burns. “Everyone does it. I don’t do the hard stuff.”

“Hard enough.” 

“I don’t inject.” Potter keeps his eyes on Severus.

Severus rolls his eyes. “The fact you choose not to put a needle in your veins doesn’t mean you’re not taking things you have no business taking.” Severus reaches for some biscuits and opens them, letting Potter tuck in. He seems hungry, as if he’s forgotten to eat for a few days. “Besides, you will if you keep going as you are. It’s only a matter of time.” Severus glances at Potter’s pocket as it buzzes. “I think someone wants you.”

Potter takes a slim Muggle phone from his jeans. Severus knows the people in Potter’s life who use Muggle phones are the men he has sex with. There’s nobody else who would use such means to contact him. Potter taps at the screen and shrugs, turning it off. “Doesn’t work properly with all the magic here. It’s not important. They have these dating apps-”

“I’m aware.” Severus cuts Potter off. He doesn’t need to be lectured about whatever Potter’s on these days. His familiarity with the Muggle gay party scene is far greater than Potter likely knows or suspects. It’s partially why Severus is like a dog with a bone when he sees Potter spiralling out of control. If Potter embraces the Muggle scene Severus wants him to feel the freedom afforded to him by his old friends when he dances, not watch him fall into a place where he feels even more trapped than he does by the magical world he once loved. Severus looks at Potter’s phone, left out on the side. “I think _dating_ is a rather polite term for casual fucking.”

Potter looks away. “I’m an adult. I can fuck anyone I like. I can take whatever I like. I don’t see why you care so much.”

“I don’t.” The lie comes easily and Severus gestures to the door. “The living room is through there. I suggest we take a seat.”

The truth is, Severus doesn’t care for the reasons Potter probably imagines. Even if he doesn’t buy Potter’s happy hedonist routine for one moment, Severus knows it works for some people. Considering the past sins Severus has committed, the last thing he wants is to stand in judgment and wag his finger. The situation with Potter is far more complicated than attempting to offer half-baked moral advice that would seem completely disingenuous coming from Severus. 

_He’s already losing control of it. Can you help him?_

Bill Weasley’s words churn through Severus’ mind. He supposes he should feel resentful about the fact that saving Potter’s sorry hide is yet again his responsibility, but he’s had a little time to come to terms with the fact that trying to keep Potter alive is his lot in life. If he’s honest, Severus’ life is a lot more interesting with Potter in it. Severus huffs at _that_ irritating thought, and follows Potter into the living room. According to Weasley, Severus is the only person in their immediate circle who can help Potter understand himself and pull him out of the water before he drowns. Next time, Severus is going to demand a fee for his troubles.

“Have you been following me?” Potter munches on a biscuit, studying Severus. “Because that’s a bit creepy.”

“Obviously not.” Severus snorts. “I may have happened across the places you frequent on occasion.”

“Yet you never thought to say hello.” Potter looks thoughtful. “Funny, that.”

“Not particularly. You were often otherwise occupied.” Severus tries not to sound bitter. Of all the emotions, all the things he expected to feel during his rescue mission, the rolling jealousy pumping through his body at the sight of Potter in another man’s arms was not one of them.

“I like men.” Potter shrugs, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to work out Severus’ game plan. “There’s no harm in it. I’m single. I’m having fun.”

“Is that what you call it?” Severus knows Potter seeks out twinks that look like Draco Malfoy. He handles his conquests with confidence a cold, empty look on his face. Severus has seen Potter play Quidditch and laugh with his friends over treacle tart. He knows what Potter looks like when he’s having _fun_ and it’s not like that – not cold smiles that don’t meet his eyes and a grim determination to find completion. When Potter kisses and fucks he looks more like he’s going into battle than having a good time. There’s none of the carefree ease or wide smiles Severus remembers. He’s quite certain Potter isn’t close to finding the things he wants or needs as he drifts through London bars and endless nights of dancing just so he doesn’t have to sleep. _To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, there’s the rub_.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Potter bristles, on the defensive.

“I never said there was.” Severus pauses and tries to make his next comment sound flippant, as if he couldn’t care less. “Are you being safe, at least?”

Potter raises his eyebrows at the unexpected question. “Yeah. I’m being safe.”

“Good.” Severus heaves a sigh.

“Am I here to learn how to use a condom?” Potter rolls his eyes. “I think we’re a bit beyond sex education, _Professor_.”

Severus glares at Potter. “Insolent little fool. You couldn’t possibly understand the dangers, being so ignorant of the Muggle world. There are diseases no magic has been able to cure.”

“Muggles have them under control though,” Potter narrows his eyes and studies Severus.

“Ah, yes.” Severus turns his eyes heavenward. “And I suppose a Muggle doctor would be perfectly positioned to advise you on appropriate medication, with no knowledge of your wizarding heritage? Foolish boy.”

Potter winces and then his brow furrows. “Why did you bring me here, anyway? The last time you saw me you booted me out on my ear and told me not to come back. Did you think just because you didn’t want me nobody else would?”

Severus shakes his head. “I’m aware of your appeal, Potter. That was never the issue.”

“Oh.” Potter picks at his jeans. “I don’t get it, then. Why do you want me here?”

“Because things are different now.” Severus stands, pacing and trying to choose his words carefully. “I was under the misguided assumption that you came to my office to scratch an itch. I had no desire to be ridiculed by James Potter’s son after one moment of weakness.”

Potter’s face pales and he stares at Severus, nudging his glasses onto his nose. His jaw tightens. “I wouldn’t do that. Christ, you don’t know me at all, do you? You thought I was there to laugh at you?”

Severus inclines his head. “What else was I supposed to think?”

“You might have trusted me.”

“Why?” Severus raises his eyebrows. “You and I were hardly sharing war stories over brandy after hours. No attempt was made to suggest you might have a genuine reason for seeking me out that day.”

“It was made, actually.” Potter glares at Severus. “You just didn’t want to listen.” His throat works. “I was a bit all over the place. I didn’t know what I was doing there, not really.”

“I remember.” Severus tries not to let the _didn’t know what I was doing_ sting but he can’t quite stop the scowl in Potter’s general direction. “You took my request to leave with such eager readiness, it wasn’t difficult to tell myself that you regretted your rash actions-”

“ _My_ rash actions?” Potter snorts. “You weren’t exactly fighting me off with a Beater’s bat, Snape.”

Severus grits his teeth. “I didn’t exactly have much choice in the matter when you threw yourself into my arms.”

Potter stares at Severus, his cheeks red with anger. “Of course you had a bloody choice. Don’t make it sound like I forced myself on you. For fucks sake, why can’t you admit you wanted it as much as I did? You could have easily thrown me out on my ear if you didn’t.”

Severus contemplates Potter. “Your advances were clearly not unwelcome. Your motives, however, were unclear.”

“Because you were too bloody quick to send me packing.” Potter huffs and folds his arms. “You never tried to contact me afterwards.”

“You left the Ministry.” Severus narrows his eyes. “I didn’t particularly relish the idea of chasing you around Muggle London to have a conversation.”

“Yet here we are.” Potter pulls a face.

“You have something of a reputation for fighting for things you believe in. The fact you chose not to direct your irritating perseverance at me, gave me the answer I needed.”

“You don’t know anything.” Potter lets out a bark of humourless laughter. “Not a single thing.”

“I know more now, than I did then.”

“Oh?” Potter shakes his head, rubbing his forehead as if it pains him. His voice gets rough. “You were my first. I hadn’t done anything like that before. I thought it might be different.”

Severus can’t help the chill that passes through him because he didn’t imagine for one moment the confident Potter throwing himself into Severus’ arms was experiencing sex for the first time. “You might have said.”

“Would it have helped?” 

“It would not have harmed.” Severus runs his finger over his lips. “I’m not sure I would have believed you in any event. I imagined it was simply a one off. An idle curiosity. I was in no mood to refuse the offer of a nubile young body eager to be in my arms. Despite all indications to the contrary, I do not find you wholly unattractive.”

“Thanks.” Potter rolls his eyes. He runs his tongue over his lips. He looks like he’s having difficulty swallowing as if his emotions have caught in his throat. “How could you think it was just so I could get off and make a joke out of it?”

“Because you never indicated you wanted any more than a moment of physical pleasure.” 

“I _tried_.” Potter looks put out. “Even if you’d let me talk, would it have made a difference?”

Severus shakes his head. “I have no idea.” He allows himself a half-smile. “I am not an easy man to reason with.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Potter meets Severus’ smile with a tentative one of his own. “So, what? Now you’ve had two years to think about it, you’re finally ready to listen? What’s changed?”

“Bill Weasley paid me a visit,” Severus says. 

Potter pales, shoving on his jacket and standing. “No. _No_. That’s none of your business. It’s a mistake. He’s wrong.” Potter moves through Severus’ house and with a sigh, Severus follows. When Potter opens the front door, Severus flicks his wand to close it again with a slam. The sound seems to do the trick and Potter pauses with his hands on the wall, close to the door. His shoulders are tense and when he speaks he sounds wretched. “Are you keeping me prisoner here, now? Kick me out on my arse after letting me suck you off and then forcing me to stay when I’m trying to leave?”

A wave of fury, emotion and frustration travels through Severus. He flicks his wand and the door opens, letting in the cool night air. When he speaks his voice is tight.

“Leave, if you wish. Your saunas will still be busy and your phone no doubt has countless unanswered calls and messages waiting for you. Take whatever chemicals you can find and try to forget but it will only be for a matter of hours – a matter of days. This isn’t something that can be fought against forever. You are already seeing the impact of your continued insistence on professing ignorance.”

“Why you?” Potter straightens, his shoulders tense. “Why did it have to be you?”

“Excuse me?” Severus swallows and takes in Potter’s red eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Why do you think I came to you in the first place? I _knew_.” Potter’s voice cracks and breaks. “Something pulled me into your office that day – it was just after the Aurors were attacked and it was like I was on autopilot. I needed something to help me settle and I it was you I wanted. When Bill found out about me he said he knew you were the same as me and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you. I still can’t. It’s been months and months of needing you and I hate it, I _hate it_. I want it to go away.”

_He’s drowning, Severus. Please help him. He needs you._

Severus shakes his head, trying to slow his racing thoughts. It had never occurred to him that Potter might have come to Severus seeking some sort of balance. The thought makes his chest tight and sends something unfamiliar swooping in his belly. 

“You came to me because you wanted an Alpha?”

Potter’s cheeks heat. “I think that was part of it. I went into…well, you know. For the first time. The day after I came to see you.”

Severus swallows. “I would not have been so hasty, had I known.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. It was probably for the best.” Potter shrugs, as if he just wants to stop talking about it. His shoulders slump and he looks thin and sad, his face wan and sombre. 

“I’m not sure it was.” Severus studies Potter. The revelation that Potter came to Severus seeking protection and acceptance shines a whole different light on Potter’s subsequent behaviour. Severus had not just rejected the advances of his former student – he had turned away an Omega seeking an Alpha. The rejection would have been severely felt, complicated by the strands of history woven into the relationship between Severus and Potter. He takes in Potter’s unhappy stance – the too-slender frame, the dark shadows under his eyes, the stubble and the determined set of his jaw. He doesn’t miss the way Potter’s hands shake as an after-effect of the sobriety potion. He looks broken. Severus blamed the war for Potter’s drug use and spiralling off the rails. The last thing he expected was that he himself might have been the cause.

“Is that what all of this has been about?” Severus’ voice is rough. “That afternoon?”

“Not just that.” Potter shakes his head. “Didn’t help, though.”

“No.” Severus flicks the door closed, this time with a soft _snick_. “I would like you to stay. For as long as you wish. We have much to discuss. The rare literature we have suggests young cubs are often assisted by finding a mentor to help them learn how to channel and develop their newfound magical qualities.” 

Potter scowls. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” Severus adopts an innocent look.

“ _Cub_. I’m not your fucking pet.” With a sigh, Potter slides off his jacket and he nods. “Fine. I’m sleeping on the sofa, though.”

Severus nods, an ache he can’t quite define weighing heavily on his chest. _No_. He can’t entertain the notion of anything other than a platonic relationship. “As you wish.”

“And I want a whisky.” Potter juts his chin. “I’m not going to get boozed up, I just want a glass.”

“Fine.” Severus could use one himself. “Go back to the living room. I will be along shortly.”

When Severus returns with whisky and a ham sandwich on thick, white bread, Potter’s eyes light up. Severus is relieved when Potter focuses on the sandwich and eats it hurriedly, making appreciative noises. By the time they finally start talking, Potter’s whisky is still untouched.

*

“When did you find out?” Severus lets Potter finish his sandwich and tries not to be charmed by the inelegant way he sucks a finger into his mouth after a bit of stray mustard lands on his skin.

“About a month before I came to your office at the Ministry.” Potter’s cheeks heat and he looks away. “Feels like ages ago.”

Severus makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat. “Had I known-”

“What? You’d have blamed me for something I didn’t really understand.” Potter holds Severus’ gaze. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“I could have helped.”

“You didn’t seem particularly interested in helping with anything at the time.” Potter shrugs. “Besides, I don’t need help. I’ve worked out how to manage it. It’s not a lot of fun when _that_ happens, but otherwise I can live just fine.”

“Is that so?” Severus doesn’t believe Potter for a minute. He can see Potter’s usually fit, healthy demeanour has been far less robust of late. He notices the diversionary tactics in the drink, the drugs and the endless nights of parties. It doesn’t escape his notice that Potter talks around the topic with no direct acknowledgment of the process his body goes through. The way _heat_ becomes _that_.

“I’m fine.” Potter looks down at his hands and twists them in his lap. “I don’t need looking after.”

“I’m glad to hear it as I have no intention of mollycoddling you and brushing your hair before you go to sleep at night.”

Potter snorts. He looks away. “Do you know any others?”

“Any others?” Severus presses his lips together in irritation, trying to resist snapping at Potter. They’ve been talking in circles all evening and Potter seems utterly reticent to even let the word fall from his lips. “Not saying it out loud doesn’t make it any less true, Potter.”

Potter looks mutinous and his eyes flash when he finally looks at Severus. “ _Fine_. Do you know any other Omegas?”

Severus shakes his head, softening under Potter’s angry gaze. “No. There are only a handful of us in existence.”

“Bully for us,” Potter mutters. “You would be a bloody Alpha.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” At least Potter’s talking. It’s progress, of a sort.

Potter looks up. “Do you wish there was someone else? Someone other than me?”

A jolt of something unfamiliar passes through Severus and he sets his lips in a tight line. It’s a question he’s asked himself on multiple occasions since Bill Weasley’s visit. He knows his interest in Harry goes beyond base instinct, largely because it first became apparent when Potter stood before the Wizengamot and fought for people he had no business fighting for, his demeanour more determined, stoic and mature than Severus had previously seen. Potter’s unmistakable power held an allure which captivated Severus with unexpected intensity. Potter was bitten after those events, not before. That particular kernel of information, however, is something Severus decides to keep to himself.

“I think, perhaps, it’s not wholly unexpected that you and I might find ourselves somehow…” Severus searches for the right word. “Fated.”

Potter stares at Severus intently. “That’s not an answer.”

Severus inclines his head. “It is, however, all I have.”

Potter pulls a face and takes a gulp of the whisky. He rubs his forehead and it’s a long time before either of them speak again.

*

“You want to mentor me?” Potter finishes his whisky and finally breaks the silence. “Is that what this is about?”

Severus nods. “I understand your magic has been more erratic of late.”

“A bit.” Potter pales and he taps his fingers on his knee. “It’s fine.”

“It won’t be, I can assure you of that.” Severus glares at Potter. “Insolent brat. You seem to have forgotten how many bouts of _Cruciatus_ some of us have suffered to keep you alive.”

“With all due respect, you seem to have forgotten some of us have suffered a few _Avada Kedavras_ to keep everyone else alive,” Potter murmurs. He rolls his eyes and stares at the ceiling, stretching his legs out. He’s outwardly confident but for the first time, Severus can see it’s awkward and put on. He has none of the easy confidence of James Potter – it’s more a defiant _fuck you_ than anything else. Severus can’t help but wonder when Potter started throwing two fingers up at the world and hiding from the magic he had been so delighted to discover as a child.

“How much has Bill told you?”

“About Omegas?” Potter shrugs. “A bit. He gave me books.” He looks sheepish. “I haven’t read them all. I’m not really one for research.”

“Of course not.” Severus resists the urge to sneer, certain that wouldn’t help their tentative truce. 

“I can’t get pregnant or anything.” Potter’s lips twist. “I know some Omegas end up with the all the right bits. Not me, apparently. I don’t think there’s all that much difference physically. Apart from the cycles and…” Potter trails off.

“It’s virtually unheard of for wizards.” Severus hadn’t even considered the possibility that Potter might be able to have children.

“I know.” Potter bites his thumbnail. “I haven’t let anyone fuck me.”

Severus bites back the urge to shout at Potter. “You’re an _Omega_. Your body demands it, you idiotic child.”

“It doesn’t. Not in the way the books say.” Potter shakes his head. “It hurts during heat and sometimes I think it might be nice – _really_ nice – but it’s not like I’m walking around looking to get fucked by anyone with an available prick. I think it’s a bit like _Imperius_. It doesn’t hit me as hard as other people. I can sort of…fight it.”

Severus narrows his eyes. “Yet you have ample paramours to choose from. Do you have some kind of issue with bottoming for a partner?”

“No.” Potter’s cheeks flush lightly. “But I can’t let a Muggle back there if I get wet, can I? It’s not exactly normal.” He looks up. “That’s the other weird physical thing. Other than that, it’s all just like it always was. Well, mostly. I can keep going for more times than normal, I think.” Potter manages a bold wink. “It’s probably why the Muggles like me.”

Severus rolls his eyes, Potter’s cocksure attitude helping to dispel the images of him stretched out for Severus, wet and needy. 

“Did you imagine the compulsion would be enough to strip away your ability to make decisions about your partner and your limits?”

“I don’t know.” Potter frowns, thinking. “The books make it sound as if it could be like that.”

Severus thinks about the research he’s conducted over the years. “You no doubt experience cravings for certain acts but even when those are at their most acute – during heat – you’re unlikely to settle for someone you find repulsive.”

“Yeah.” Potter grins, a bit brighter now. “I wouldn’t let Lucius Malfoy fuck me, for example.”

“No.” Severus shudders. “I’m pleased to hear it. Draco, however…”

Potter’s cheeks turn pink and he clears his throat. “Oh, piss off.”

“Simply an observation. You appear to have a type.” 

“You’ve been paying more attention than I thought.” Potter laughs, low in his throat. “Jealous?”

“Not in the slightest.” Severus scowls at Potter for his impudence.

“Yeah, well. No need.” Potter rubs his hand on his jeans as if his palms are clammy. “I suppose there were moments when I didn’t find you _wholly unattractive_ either, Professor. Maybe that’s why I came to you. Not just because of the Alpha thing.”

Severus refuses to give Potter the satisfaction of looking pleased with himself, although a momentary flush of pleasure passes through him at the unexpected revelation. “You do know you’re unlikely to find any lasting satisfaction with Muggles if you can’t be open about being a wizard, let alone an Omega.” 

“I know.” Potter shrugs. “It does for now, though. It helps.”

“I can imagine.” Severus can’t. Not really. He can tell Potter’s talk is largely bravado and sheer force of will. He wonders Potter’s stoic avoidance of the subject of his own desires might be different if he actually had any of the experiences he seems eager to swerve. Severus changes the subject quickly, before they venture down a path that’s too intimate. “Bill tells me it happened during a raid in Surrey.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t Greyback. I’m not even sure it was a werewolf. It didn’t look human at all.” Potter’s brow furrows. “Bill thinks it might have been a shapeshifter or something. They’re different, I think. They spend most of their time in animal form. I don’t even know why it attacked me.”

Severus shakes his head. “I don’t believe it did.” He brushes his fingers against the scar tissue on his neck in an almost subconscious movement. “When I was bleeding out after Nagini’s attack I was bitten in the side by a creature I believe was a wolf. Then the wolf proceeded to lick the wounds on my neck. Had it wanted to, it could have killed me. The animal I thought was going to take my life ended up saving it.”

“I didn’t know all that.” Potter looks curious. “I just knew it happened after the war.”

“Perhaps Bill believed it was not his story to tell or hoped we would talk to one another instead of using him as a conduit.” Severus sips his whisky. “I think you were bitten because you were dying.”

Potter pales and he shakes his head, his expression pinched. “No.”

“You hadn’t been hit by a particularly powerful curse just moments before?”

Potter swallows and he rubs against a spot on his thigh. He nods. “I was okay, though. The bite seemed worse than the curse in the end, it didn’t seem to take properly.”

“Just as Nagini’s venom didn’t ravage my body as it should have done.” Severus tops up Potter’s drink just a little as he looks as though he might need it.

“We should find them. These wolves. If they can heal people, they could be of real use to the Ministry.” Potter looks more animated than he has all night.

“I suspect we wouldn’t be the first to try and I imagine we will have as little success as those who have tried previously.” Severus shakes his head. “You and I will never see another one of those wolves during our living days. We have no means of calling them to the aid of our friends. I don’t know much about the lore, but I am certain of that.”

Potter’s smile fades and he nods. “You’re probably right.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, clearly deep in thought. “It doesn’t seem like such a curse when you explain it like that. I thought it was an attack. It always seemed weird, though. It didn’t fit with the books which talked about magic and spirits.”

“Indeed.” Severus nods. “Yet again, it seems you are the Chosen One.”

“Don’t.” Potter winces. “How did you find out you were an Alpha?” Potter looks Severus up and down, lingering on his crotch, impertinent little brat that he is. 

“Certain minor physiological differences.” Severus clears his throat because he’s absolutely _not_ going to start talking about his prick with Potter. “I visited Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban as I had to seek his advice on a matter regarding Draco. Greyback was there and he reacted violently. Brewing potions is a delicate task and I found an unbalanced and unexpected surge of magic began to interfere with the process. Those factors combined gave me enough ammunition to conduct some research. It was hardly a leap of logic to consider whether the wolf that saved my life might have been the root cause of the issue.”

Potter looks deep in thought, a small smile playing over his lips. “Professor?”

“Severus will do.”

“Was the wolf a sort of tawny colour? A bit scruffy, with matted fur?”

A chill travels the length of Severus’ spine and he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yes.”

“Mine too.” Potter scratches idly at something on his arm, before pushing up his jumper and leaning forward to show Severus a mark on his pale skin. There’s a tattoo of an all too familiar black dog on Potter’s arm and Severus tries not to scowl at it. _Black_. “Did you know Sirius and Remus were lovers?”

“It could hardly have escaped one’s notice.” Severus pulls his eyes from Potter’s arm. “Yet I doubt either of them would have wanted any part in saving my life.”

“I don’t know. I think Remus might. You helped him with his Wolfsbane, after all and he always said he should have stood up for you. That you didn’t deserve to be bullied.”

“How generous of him.” Severus rolls his eyes and he looks at the fire, crackling in the still room. “You imagine the spirits of the dead came back to keep you and I in the land of the living? Why on earth would they have any desire to do so?”

“Like you said.” Potter smiles at Severus, his gaze soft and his cheeks pink. “Maybe they think we’re fated too.”

A tug of warmth pulls at Severus’ belly and he glares at Potter. “Sentimental Gryffindor twit.”

“Unimaginative Slytherin pillock,” Potter counters. He sounds amused. “How come the Weasleys know about you? I didn’t know you were close to them.”

Severus frowns. “There’s much you don’t know about my relationship with Molly and Arthur. We fought side by side for years, even when they may not have realised the full extent of my work for the Order. Bill is a bright and able study and I felt he would be perfectly suited to assist with the research after his own experience at the hands of Fenrir. I was able to pay him a small fee, from money I have earned through making bespoke potions.”

“I’d have thought Percy would be the one for the books.” Potter grins at Severus, as if he already knows what Severus thinks of that idea.

“Bill has all of Percy’s intellect without any of the pomposity,” Severus replies.

Potter laughs, low in his throat. “He’s not so bad.”

“Barely tolerable.” 

“You’re too difficult to please. You should have asked Hermione.”

“Have you?” Severus arches his eyebrow at Potter, who shakes his head.

“No. They know something’s up, but they don’t know all the detail. Bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Severus turns his eyes heavenward. Only Potter would find being bestowed with the gift of life and imbued with a raft of new and even more powerful magical capabilities _embarrassing_. “How many heats have you spent alone?”

Potter flushes. “What kind of question is that?”

Severus resists the urge to shake Potter. Not allowing himself to develop and grow must be taking its toll. “You haven’t found anyone else to assist?”

“I haven’t wanted or needed to.” Potter’s stubborn tone is back, his eyes flashing. “I just want to be normal.”

Severus contemplates Harry. “How pedestrian.”

Potter pulls a face. He fiddles with a slim leather band on his wrist. “Is this going to be like Occlumency all over again?”

Severus snorts. “I sincerely hope not.” His response draws the hint of a smile from Potter.

“Then what? I stay here and you help me become a proper Omega?”

“Don’t be facetious.” Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. “Something must be done and I see no other solution. Weasley is quite concerned-”

“Bill needs to mind his own business.” Even as Potter says it he winces, as if the words don’t feel right spilling from his lips. “Sorry. It’s not Bill’s fault.”

“No.” Severus eyes Potter. “You do know Mr Weasley is absolutely right to express concern? You know the impact of prolonged Wolfsbane usage on werewolves. It is neither wise or healthy to indulge in continued suppression of one’s own nature. With your magic and the complications caused by having been exposed to the Dark Lord’s soul during your adolescence, it is not yet clear how being an Omega will impact you. There are no two identical cases and the rarity of the condition makes it a relatively unknown quantity. You are far too powerful a wizard to ignore the signs that you need to be doing more magic in order to better control it.”

“I know that much, at least.” Potter shrugs. “I don’t have much else to do this summer so I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to stay with you for a few days. Can I still go out?”

Severus presses his lips together. “You’re hardly a prisoner.”

“Oh.” Potter looks thoughtful and Severus wonders if Potter wanted to be told not to go out – something he can blame Severus for in a moment of anger – something which might give him an excuse to leave his Muggle boys behind. In the end, Potter sits back and nudges his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a few nights in front of the telly anyway.”

Severus tries not to let his obvious relief show. He doesn’t particularly like the thought of Potter coming back to his home with his skin reeking of someone else. No matter how hard Severus tries not to think of Potter as a possible partner, he can’t deny the way something possessive roars in his chest when he imagines Potter with other men. Not to mention the irritating desire he seems to have developed to stop Potter from wasting time with people who are almost certainly not worthy of him. “This is a magical property, Potter. No television here.”

“Well, maybe you can come to mine one evening.” Potter gives Severus a grin and for the first time looks a bit more like his normal self. Severus knows Grimmauld Place is currently rented to Longbottom and his girlfriend and he heard about Potter’s new London Muggle pad on the grapevine. “I’ve got some great romantic comedies.”

“I can categorically say I can imagine nothing worse.” Severus raises his eyebrows at Potter. _Romantic comedies_ , indeed. “I have more familiarity with the Muggle world than you probably imagine, but I can assure you my tastes do not stretch to asinine Hollywood films.”

Potter studies Severus and seems to be toying with whether or not to say what’s on his mind. “I’m not looking for an Alpha. I don’t want a _mate_. I’m happy as I am. If I’m staying, I want to be clear about that.”

Severus shrugs and swallows back the fierce wave of possessiveness which claws through him when he thinks of Potter with someone else. It’s purely biological, he tells himself. Nothing more. Severus is the master of restraint and he has no intention of taking anything that is not freely and enthusiastically offered to him.

“Then we’re on the same page. Bill suggested I could be a useful mentor. I desire nothing more from you than willingness to learn.”

“I’ll try.” Potter doesn’t sound enthusiastic about the prospect. He yawns. “I’m knackered.”

“Very well.” Severus stands to find Potter sheets and pillows and helps make the sofa into a bed. “You will find a spare toothbrush in the bathroom drawer. I imagine you’ll want to go home at some point to get clothes and your own bathroom products.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that tomorrow morning. I’m up early, as a rule. When I haven’t been out all night that is.” Potter’s face flickers with shadows and the dying light from the fire. “Thanks, Snape.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Severus warns.

Potter chuckles and the sound is as warm and rich as the soft orange glow in the room. “For the sandwich and the drink. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Severus allows himself one last moment to take in Potter’s frame as he starts stripping for bed with little or no concern for the fact Severus might still be able to see him. With a firm shake of his head, Severus makes his way upstairs and spends a fitful night dreaming of multiple scenarios in which Potter is no longer there in the morning.

*

Severus doesn’t usually rise much after eight, but the after an unsettled night he’s surprised to find it’s nearly ten o’clock when he finally wakes. He listens for the sound of Potter downstairs but he can’t hear anything. With a sigh, he showers and dresses before making his way into the kitchen and putting on some coffee.

“Morning.” Potter comes into the kitchen, tartan lounge trousers hanging low on his hips and a tight black t-shirt leaving little to the imagination. He’s slender, but the dancing and Quidditch have obviously contributed to the muscle definition in his arms and his chest. Severus tries not to linger, tearing his eyes from Potter’s compelling physique.

“You’ve been home.”

“Yeah. I picked a few things up.” Potter gestures to his clothes. “I packed for staying in. I assume that’s what we’re doing.”

“That was my intention.” In truth, Severus isn’t entirely sure _what_ he’s doing. His offer for Potter to stay had been impulsive and in part unnecessary. There’s no reason for Potter to be with Severus twenty-four hours a day when a few hours of structured study would likely suffice. The fact that Severus made his offer so readily and Potter accepted with ease makes Severus feel unbalanced. He _knows_ he’s been unable to stop thinking about Potter for some time. He also can’t seem to shake Potter’s angry expression and the way he looked at Severus when he said _it’s been months and months of needing you_.

Potter slips past Severus and flicks his wand in the direction of the coffee, when it begins to gurgle violently. “Sit down if you like. I’ll make breakfast.”

“I’m quite capable-”

“I know. Let me keep busy.” Potter’s voice is firm and Severus doesn’t miss the shake in his fingers.

“You know I won’t stop you from doing as you please-”

“I know.”

“But I have one condition.” Severus takes his seat and watches Potter busy himself making scrambled eggs and toast. He already seems to know his way round, working quickly with magic as he hums quietly to himself.

“What’s that?”

“No more Knockturn Alley potions. If you require something to sober you up, I suggest you _stay sober_. If that’s not an option, then come to me. I will do as I can.”

“Thanks.” Potter takes a breath, his back to Severus. “I think I’d like to maybe not do that for a while. Not while I’m here. I don’t want to come in and out of your house at all hours, completely kneazled.”

“Kneazled?”

“Pissed.” Potter turns to Severus with a grin, sending the plates onto the table and bringing their coffee over. “Turn of phrase.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak idiotic Gryffindor.” Severus rolls his eyes. He takes a forkful of eggs and a bite of hot, buttery toast which really is delicious. “Very well.” He wonders at Potter’s change of mind and can’t help but push. “You think you’ll just be able to let go of it all so easily?”

“I don’t know.” Potter pauses as he glances up at Severus. “I didn’t say forever. Just for a bit.”

“Ah.” Severus continues eating and the room is quiet but for the crunch of toast and the scrape of their forks against china.

“It’s a bit like being at the edge of a cliff.” Potter speaks quietly, his words careful. “Some nights it felt like that. Like if I pushed a bit more I could just…drop and keep falling.”

“The problem with falling is that it’s only a matter of time before one hits the ground.” Severus dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin and he gets a cheeky smile from Potter.

“Not if you can fly.”

“No, not if you can fly.” Severus’ lips twitch. “Which you, Potter, cannot.”

“I could Summon my broom. That ought to do it.” Potter grins and finishes the last of his breakfast, pushing his plate away. He fixes his gaze on Severus and he looks so earnest and unsure it’s all Severus can do not to gather him up in his arms. “I don’t want to hit the ground. I might just not go out for a bit if you don’t mind me hanging around.”

“No,” Severus says. “I don’t mind you hanging around.”

“Good.” Potter lets out a breath and he sends their empty plates towards the sink. “Have you got a day of lessons planned?”

“Not particularly.” Severus shrugs. “There are a few things I wish to discuss first, then I suggest we start working on controlling your magic.”

“Fine.” Potter stands and stretches. It takes all of Severus’ fortitude not to lick his lips at the exposed skin and trail of dark hair which runs from Harry’s belly-button downwards. “I’ll wash up and see you in the living room. Shall I make more coffee?”

“A pot of tea should do the trick.” Severus stands and he puts his hand on Potter’s shoulder. It stills him instantly and Severus is sure he doesn’t imagine the hitch of breath or the light shiver which travels the length of Potter’s body. “You made breakfast. You sit. I will bring the tea.”

“I don’t mind doing it.”

“I appreciate the offer, but you are a guest not my house-elf. We can share any household chores. Besides, I’m very particular about my tea.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Potter shoots Severus a smile and leaves the room, whistling as he goes.

If Severus allows himself a quick glance at Potter’s arse, nobody has to know.

*

“Bill came to see me shortly after your last trip to The Burrow.” Severus pours the tea and settles opposite Potter, keeping a comfortable distance. “Care to tell me your side?”

“Are there sides?” Potter pulls a face. “I doubt anything Bill said was untrue.”

“Nevertheless, I want to hear it from you – together with any other incidents Mr Weasley hasn’t been around to witness.”

Potter looks away and he seems to be struggling with himself. His jaw twitches and tightens and his hands are white-knuckled as he sits stiffly. His relaxed, almost cheeky demeanour from before leaves him and the air hums with tension. Potter’s magic is right on the cusp of breaking and unleashing holy hell. Severus doesn’t know how long he has but he can sense the urgency of the situation in the uneasy crackles and the shake and tremble in Potter’s hands. He suspects the potions and chemicals have something to do with the Potter’s erratic instability and his mind whirs as he considers potions which might dull the impact of withdrawal.

“I was over for one of Molly’s Sunday roasts and Bill kept asking if it would help to speak to someone.” Potter’s gaze is keen and bright as he watches Severus. “He was saying I should speak to you.”

“I see.” Severus holds Potter’s unflinching stare. Bill had conveniently left out that detail when recounting Potter’s outburst. “The idea was so unappealing?”

“Yes.” Potter tips his chin and keeps his gaze steady. “I was _on my knees_ asking for help two years ago and you told me to fuck off. I didn’t much fancy doing that again.”

“Yet here you are,” Severus says. He can’t help but bristle at the judgment in Potter’s eyes. As if Severus has nothing better to do than cater to Potter’s every whim.

“I’m not on my knees this time – and I don’t plan to be.”

“Thank you for that clarification.” Severus rolls his eyes. 

“Besides, you came to me.” Potter shrugs. “It’s different.” He sighs and his expression softens, the tension ebbing from him. “It hurt. Being booted out like that. I don’t know what I expected, but it was like being ripped apart. It sounds stupid. I know I had no right to expect anything different.”

“No.” A cold wave washes over Severus and he swallows. He shakes himself before he can go too far down a hypothetical rabbit hole that won’t help either of them. “However, I now realise you were seeking something intrinsic to your Omega nature. Approval, protection, acceptance. A _pack_. It could have been any manner of those things.”

Potter’s lips twitch. “Perhaps I was just horny.”

Severus snorts. He holds Potter’s gaze, refusing to be thrown. “Yes, it’s possible you were seeking a mate.”

Potter blanches. “I said _horny_ , not…not that.”

Severus scowls at Potter’s impertinence. “I appreciate how horrific that notion must be, but the idea is not entirely preposterous. There’s a certain dynamic which exists between Alphas and Omegas which might have led you to desire something from me, however fleeting such desires might have been.” Severus waves Potter’s protests away. “In any event, discovering the precise reason for your visit matters not. I am simply attempting to offer an explanation for the extent of your discomfort.”

Potter makes a strangled sound. “Discomfort? That’s putting it mildly.” His throat works and he twists his hands together, his magic humming and whirring.

“Relax, Potter.” Severus keeps his voice low and firm, his fingers curling around his wand in case Potter decides to have an outburst. “Let’s move on.”

“Yeah.” Potter takes a breath and his eyes shutter closed momentarily. “Let’s.” 

“Your conversation with Bill upset you?”

“A bit. He kept pushing and wouldn’t stop going on about how I need to stop running away and start listening to my instincts. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I got angry and I started yelling. I don’t really remember much else.”

“A few shattered windows, fainting and Fiendfyre in the meadows.” Severus arches an eyebrow. “You have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Shut it.” Potter looks embarrassed.

“The Fiendfyre was a particularly impressive touch,” Severus muses.

Potter gives Severus a nervous look. “Why do you think it was Fiendfyre? That’s dark magic. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Severus purses his lips and he shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. I expect there’s an element of fire of that nature being linked to past trauma. What’s more worrisome is the fact you could evoke such complex magic with neither a wand or any incantation.”

Potter scrunches his hands into fists, his voice tight. “You think I’m dangerous? I’d never harm them, they’re my family.”

Severus considers Potter’s question. “I don’t believe you would intentionally cause any harm, of course. Nevertheless, you’re more powerful than most and you have spent months suppressing both your magic and those aspects of the creature inside you that require nourishment. If you combine that with the potions and Muggle chemicals you’ve been pumping through your veins, the magical instability is unsurprising.”

“Great,” Potter mutters. “So, I’m going to end up turning Ron into a toad on Hermione’s birthday or something?”

Severus lets out a short laugh. It seems to surprise Potter, because his eyes widen and he looks pleased with himself. “I doubt it. We simply need to work on bringing the magic under control.”

Potter gives Severus a calculating look. “I know all about helping Omegas _work on controlling their magic_. It’s a euphemism for shagging.”

Severus wonders if Potter’s propensity for blushing is catching. “Impertinent brat.” He refuses to let Potter have the upper hand. He keeps his voice low and silky-smooth. “I hardly see how fucking you would have any benefit. Not when you are so resistant to the sexual aspect of the Omega needs.”

Potter swallows. “Yeah. Completely resistant.” He doesn’t sound so sure.

“Well, then.” Severus flicks his wand to clear away the tea. “In that case, I suggest a rigorous session in potions and study should achieve the same goal.”

“Brilliant.” Potter doesn’t sound as though he thinks it’s brilliant at all. He follows Severus into the kitchen, leaning against the counter and watching. Eventually he pipes up, hesitantly. “Professor?”

“I have told you before, Severus will do.”

“Okay.” Potter takes a breath. “Severus?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s not that far away.”

“What?”

“Heat.” The word fumbles from Potter’s lips and Severus nearly breaks the china cup he’s holding.

“When?” Severus’ voice is tight.

“Soon, I think. A couple of days.”

“Idiotic child, why didn’t you mention this sooner?”

“Because I didn’t know how long I was going to stay.” 

Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. “And how long are you going to stay?”

Potter sounds like he’s shrugging. “It might help if I’m here for it. You can help me work out ways of making it better without the Muggle drugs.”

Severus turns, fixing his gaze on Potter. “Do you imagine we can continue to skirt around the very obvious solution?”

Potter shakes his head. “No. Not really.”

Severus’ mouth is dry and his chest tighter than usual. “What are you trying to suggest?”

“Just that there might be more enjoyable ways of working this out than books and potions.” Potter pushes himself off the counter and he brushes his fingers over the buttons on Severus’ shirt. “Don’t you think?”

Severus _does_ think, but part of him can’t help but wonder at Potter’s change of heart, having been so determined to keep his distance only moments ago. 

_I’m not looking for an Alpha. I don’t want a mate_.

“What games are you playing?” Severus catches Potter’s meandering hand and gives him a look which has Potter biting his bottom lip. “You, who is so certain you won’t end up _on your knees_ again.”

“I don’t know.” Potter’s voice is small and he drops his hands by his sides, taking a step back. He takes a shaky breath. “I get so restless. I can’t sit still and read all day, I’ll go mad.”

“I see.” Severus keeps a careful distance from Potter. Part of him wants to yank the brat into his arms and kiss him breathless, but the more sensible part knows that would be a foolhardy mistake. “Yet you have been clear about your desire to continue seeing your Muggles after we manage to stabalise your magic. You haven’t once asked what _I_ desire, simply presuming that I would willingly fall into bed with you as if grateful for the crumbs from Harry Potter’s table.”

Potter’s face pales and he shakes his head. “I don’t expect you to be grateful.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.” Potter seems to be toying with himself and he looks down at his feet. “You’re doing it again. Making assumptions about me which are so far off base…”

Severus studies Potter. “Then continue. Explain to me what it is you’re looking for.”

Potter sighs. “I don’t _know_. I don’t know what I want from you, why I came to see you in the first place or why the fuck I’m standing here two years later asking to spend a heat with you. I don’t know much about any of this, but I do know it’s not because I want to sit in a dusty classroom and read some fucking _books_.” Potter shrugs. “You told me to listen to my instincts and that’s what I’m getting from them. I’m not even thinking about Muggles or any of that at the minute – I want a break.”

“I see.” Severus lets that ruminate and Potter crowds his personal space again, smelling like citrus shampoo and the cool autumn air.

“Aren’t you curious, too?”

“To hold an Omega in my arms?” Severus’ voice is embarrassingly husky and he strokes his thumb over Potter’s cheek, leaning in to him. “To taste the slickness of your heat and to _finally_ find completion with someone to whom I am intrinsically connected?”

“Yes…that.” Potter sounds a bit breathless. “The tasting thing. The completion.”

“Of course.” Severus pulls back and he puts some distance between himself and Potter. “But much like you, I am able to differentiate between primal urges and the things I desire.”

“Oh.” Potter’s face falls and dusky pink spots bloom in his cheeks. “That’s clear enough.”

“Is it?” Severus contemplates Potter. “What have you deduced about my innermost desires with such insightful clarity?”

“That the Alpha in you might want an Omega but _you_ don’t want _me_.” Potter speaks firmly but Severus doesn’t miss the way his voice shakes.

“Incorrect.” Severus folds his arms. “However, I believe I have already stated how I feel about being used to scratch an itch. An _experiment_. Do you imagine I would be willing to simply ensconce ourselves in my home for a blissful few days and then unleash you back to Vauxhall for more Muggle chemicals, saunas and eager boys that remind you of a wizard you once professed to hate?”

“No.” Potter looks confused. “I don’t imagine that.” He gives Severus a close look and his voice steadies. “The Malfoy thing really bothers you?”

Severus raises an eyebrow at Potter. “It would be difficult to be jealous of a fantasy, yet you clearly enjoy the company of a particular kind of Muggle for a reason.”

Potter sighs and he hops up on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs back and forth. He nods. “Right, then. You want to know everything?”

Severus isn’t sure he does, but he can’t very well say no when he’s spent the last twelve plus hours encouraging Potter to be honest.

“If you must.”

“Is it too early for whisky?” Potter gives Severus a tentative smile.

“Absolutely.”

“Fine, then. Make us another coffee and I’ll give you the whole sorry story.”

Severus sets the coffee pot on the stove and waits for Potter to tell his tale.

*

“Malfoy and I had a thing,” Potter says. He looks a bit embarrassed, watching Severus closely for any reaction. He sips his coffee and it makes his glasses misty.

“A _thing_.” Severus tries to quell the fierce roar in his chest. He’s going to wring Draco’s bloody neck when he next sees him. “What sort of _thing_?”

“Not, like, sex in the Room of Requirement and secret love letters.” Potter gives Severus a sheepish smile. “We just realised we liked the same things at the same sort of time and we messed around a bit.”

“The same sort of things?” Severus sounds a bit faint.

“Cock,” Potter offers, helpful soul that he is.

“Thank you, Potter.”

“Harry.” Potter gives Severus another tentative smile. “I’d prefer Harry if you don’t mind, otherwise I’ll have to go back to Professor.”

“Fine.” Severus grits his teeth. “ _Harry_.”

“We snogged a lot and had a bit of fun. No shagging, or anything. Just hand jobs and lots of grinding.” Harry clears his throat, his cheeks a warm pink. “Like you do, when you’re a teenager.”

“Like _you_ do, perhaps.” Severus raises an eyebrow at Harry. “Some of us focused on our education instead of indulging in bouts of frottage.”

Potter laughs and he gives Severus a look. “ _Some_ of us got caught with their hand down Regulus Black’s pants once upon a time. I suppose you’re going to tell me he was helping you study for your Potions NEWT?”

Severus growls and he folds his arms with a _humph_. “Who shared that little nugget of information with you?”

“Dumbeldore’s portrait.” Harry grins. “I sometimes go flying at Hogwarts. I speak to him when I’m there.”

“That interfering old menace.” Severus rubs his forehead. “How many more secrets of mine has Albus shared with you?”

“Not anything important. Small stuff. I told him I was gay and he said _who isn’t, my boy?_.” Harry laughs and shrugs. “He told me about you, I don’t think he meant any harm. I think he wanted me to realise there’s nothing to worry about. He said I should have plenty of options, if I start looking in the right places.”

“Did he, indeed?” Severus sends a silent curse towards the heavens but it doesn’t hold much bite. “I’m quite sure he had some nefarious reason of his own for sharing the more foolish aspects of my teen years with you.” He changes the subject as he has no desire to continue talking about Regulus, whose memory still makes Severus ache with the weight of things lost. “I believe you were telling me about your romance with Draco.”

“Yeah.” Harry taps his finger to his lips, the echo of past kisses raising a smile. It’s nearly enough to make Severus push Harry back against the kitchen counter to kiss away all memories of Malfoys and their dubious charms. “It happened when we went back to do our exams, after the war. I think it was good, for both of us.”

“I can only imagine.” Severus clenches his hands tightly. “Draco’s married.”

“I know.” Harry shakes his head. “Idiot. He’s not into witches, he knows it, I know it, you probably know it. I think everybody at Hogwarts knew it.”

“Perhaps.” Severus pulls a face. “Yet Lucius would never have tolerated anything other than a heterosexual union.”

Harry’s expression is thunderous. “Yeah, well. Lucius Malfoy is a bloody arse.” He glares at Severus. “I know he’s your friend but I’m not apologising.”

“I don’t require an apology.” Severus gives Harry a small smirk. “I have called Lucius far worse in my time. I think _friend_ is a rather facile way of describing the nature of our relationship. I have not considered Lucius Malfoy a true friend for many years.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” The storminess leaves Potter’s face and he relaxes a little. “Draco got in touch after his wedding.”

“Did he, indeed?” Severus’ mind whirs. He’s been on the receiving end of Draco’s seduction routine himself. The idea of Harry and Draco holds a peculiar aesthetic appeal, but the notion of Draco touching Harry’s warm skin and getting to wring every pleasure from him makes Severus cold with fury.

“Are you alright?” Harry laughs softly, watching Severus. “You look a bit…a bit like someone’s ruined your jar of unicorn hairs.”

“I’m fine.” Severus folds his arms. “I’m irritated with Draco for treating his marriage vows with such disregard.”

“Is that what’s got up your nose?” Harry sounds amused, like he doesn’t believe Severus for a moment. His legs swing back and forth. “I don’t blame him, not really. It’s not easy, being Draco. Even if he does have Galleons coming out of his ears.”

“Hmph.” Is the best Severus can manage.

“Anyway, after the wedding he said he missed blokes and wondered if I might be interested.”

“Were you?” Severus tries not to look as though he’s holding his breath waiting for a reply.

“Nope.” Potter shrugs. “It was after I’d been bitten and I didn’t want him to know. I knew wherever it went, we’d end up in bed and it wouldn’t be like the Muggles where you can just take what you want. Not to mention I didn’t want to get into an arrangement like that. It’s too complicated, isn’t it?”

“Being Malfoy’s bit on the side?” Severus snorts. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, it’s not what I want from someone. Besides, my interests were sort of already elsewhere by then.” Potter gives Severus a look and the room is thick and still with the weight of Harry’s implication.

“Is that so?” Severus purses his lips together. “I had rather understood your interest was primarily in fun.”

“It’s had to be.” Harry shrugs. “I haven’t exactly been offered an alternative and all of this is driving me mental. Muggles are an easy escape.”

“Indeed.” Severus studies Harry. “Well, I suppose that explains why your Muggle conquests look like Draco.”

“Yeah.” Harry narrows his eyes. “Wait, why do you think they look like him?”

“Because you’re in love with him,” Severus says.

Potter’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “ _No_. Christ, no. I never was and neither was he. You don’t listen _at all_.”

Severus grits his teeth. “I’m trying.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Try harder. Muggles that look like Draco are the closest I can get to pretending I’m fucking a wizard and it’s all going to be okay. _That’s_ what I’m fantasising about. Not Malfoy’s arse or him divorcing his pretty wife. I’m fantasising about being able to just be _me_ with someone. Harry Potter. Wizard. Omega. Fucked up former-hero.”

A wave of relief crashes over Severus. “You claim that nobody has ever offered you that possibility.”

“Nope.” Harry looks breathless, keeping his intent gaze on Severus. “I don’t count Malfoy. He didn’t really offer anything, much.”

Severus’ words catch in his throat. “If someone did offer you something more?”

“I’d give up the rest of it in a heartbeat,” Harry says. He tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it away from his neck. “The Muggles and the nights out.” His voice gets quiet. “I don’t enjoy it, much. I pretend I do, but it’s not really enough.” He twists his hands together. “You know when I said it was like being on the edge of a cliff?”

“Yes.” Severus gives Harry the time to continue.

“I’m not sure that was right. It was more like being in the middle of the sea, swimming further away from land. But there wasn’t anything to swim towards. I didn’t have any direction, I was just treading water and it’s exhausting.”

“Sometimes you just want to let yourself sink?” Severus resists the urge to reach for Harry, sensing he needs to speak without interruption.

“Yeah.” Harry pulls a face. His lips tilt into a small smile and he looks at Severus. “You didn’t let me go under, though. Why is that?”

Severus knows his cheeks are warm and he curses Harry for his beautiful, open heart. He should know better than to ask a direct question like that. He takes a moment to formulate his answer.

“Because you clearly need someone to stop you behaving like an idiot.” 

Harry laughs, low in his throat. “Doesn’t trying to keep me safe all the time get annoying?”

Severus snorts. “Intensely.”

“Well. Thanks, I think.” Harry’s smile softens, his jaw set and his eyes serious. “I still don’t know where I’m going, but I think maybe I’m swimming again now. Finally.”

“I’m glad.” Severus contemplates Harry. “Nevertheless, there must have been elements of that you enjoyed. The freedom?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “For all the times it didn’t feel good, there were times when it really did. Being with Muggles meant I didn’t have to think about being a wizard and everything that comes with being Harry Potter.”

“Potter…” Severus pauses, trying to think about how to phrase his words. “If that _was_ something you needed, there are ways of being with a partner which allow scope for experimentation.”

“Such as?” Harry raises his eyebrows.

“Such as an open relationship with agreed upon parameters.” Even as he says it, the thought of negotiating such an arrangement with Harry makes Severus antsy.

A low growl leaves Harry’s throat and he slides off the counter, standing with his arms by his side and his fists clenched. He swallows and his throat works. “I’m not sure I like that idea.” He pushes his glasses up on his nose and gives Severus a small smile. “Wow, no. I _really_ don’t like that idea.”

“Very well.” Severus can’t even be bothered to pretend not to be relieved. The idea of Muggles getting their hands on Harry – of _anyone_ getting their hands on Harry – is unappealing. Yet he’s Slytherin enough to know that on occasion the best way to keep someone is to allow them certain freedoms. “It was simply a suggestion.”

“Is that what you want?” Harry’s brow furrows. “If it was you, I mean. With someone else. Would you want other people involved?”

“Not especially.” Severus shakes his head and lets his gaze linger on Harry’s face. “I’m a jealous man and I don’t relish the idea of sharing what’s mine.”

“Why would you suggest it then?” Harry looks confused.

“Because life is complex and matters of the heart are rarely straightforward.”

“It doesn’t have to be that hard.” Harry messes up his hair with a quick swipe of his hand through the inky strands and it’s back again – that pink, flushed look of hope from so long ago. “I’d prefer you – someone, I mean – to tell me what they want.”

Severus approaches Harry and he takes Harry’s jaw in his hand, looking at him steadily. “Very well. I’m not available for heat cycles and nothing more.”

“Okay.” Harry presses close to Severus. His breath smells like warm coffee and toast. “Does this mean you’re available for the rest?”

Severus closes the distance between them and does what he’s wanted to do for months. Harry winds his arms around Severus and they kiss until they’re breathless. Harry opens his mouth to Severus and one of them moans into the kiss – low and rough. Severus moves Harry back against the counter, moving against him and deepening the kiss. Harry slides his hands into Severus’ hair and pulls him closer. It feels right. As if the kiss makes the final connection and fills the empty space left by two years without contact – two years where Harry or Harry-shaped-shadows occupied most of Severus’ fantasies. It’s strange, the spirits Severus sees when they kiss. He can picture the tawny wolf with absolute clarity and he’s almost tempted to indulge Harry’s romantic notions of the spirit of a wolf that used to be a man. Eventually Severus pulls back and he rubs his thumb over Harry’s cheek. His eyes are dark, his lips plump and well-kissed. He looks so handsome. 

“Does that answer your question?”

“I think so.” Harry’s voice is slightly shaky.

“If you have a foolish notion of me being the _right someone_ , those are my terms.”

“Okay.” Harry’s body practically thrums with need and Severus runs his hands down Harry’s back to take in every pulse of magic and the warmth of Harry’s skin. “I’m still not sure about getting on my knees in case you boot me out on my arse again.” Harry sounds as if he’s joking but his voice wavers and there’s uncertainty in his eyes.

“Ah.” Severus presses his lips to Harry’s ear, lowering his voice. “Perhaps I should be the one on my knees if that will assuage your doubts?”

“ _Yes_.” Harry bites back a groan. He runs his hands down Severus’ chest. “Can I stay, then? For my heat?”

 _Longer, if you wish_ , Severus thinks. He doesn’t want to let Harry go now he’s found his way into Severus’ home and pressed his warm frame against Severus, his body lithe and humming with pent-up magical energy.

“You may.” Severus moves to put the space back between them again. “I do, however, think books and spells might be of some benefit for the time being.”

Harry pulls a face. “I thought you might say that. Fine. Books and spells it is.”

Severus lets his eyes linger on Harry’s body when he stretches to make some more tea and he tries to swallow back the waves of desire crashing over him. It’s prudent to be sensible. A good idea to be cautious, when Harry is still trying to get rid of the drugs and potions from his system. If Harry thinks he’s going to be thrown out after a moment of intimacy, he’s got a way to go before he’s in any position to trust Severus and it would be foolhardy to replace the opportunity to talk and iron out their fractious history with sex.

Foolhardy, and yet…

Severus shakes himself. Harry Potter is going to be the death of him. Again.

*

_Books and spells_ turns out to be a complete fucking disaster. Not because Harry isn’t willing to put in the effort, but because his magic curls around Severus with a seductive energy which is almost breath-taking. He does exactly as Severus asks and studies the scant literature on Alphas, Betas and Omegas, working with Severus on a potion to help his come-down from the Muggle nights he appears to have no desire to go back to. It’s dangerous, having Harry in such close proximity. Severus thinks he might combust with the effort of not touching Harry – not _having_ Harry. The dratted presence of Harry in his home is far too distracting to be born and far too enjoyable to relinquish.

“Severus?” Harry closes his book after another long day. He looks fit and healthy, his position on Severus’ sofa having quickly become _Harry’s spot_ which is something Severus both appreciates and fears in equal measure.

“Yes?”

“I…” Harry pauses and then he stands. He moves to the sofa Severus enjoys for reading his articles and slips into Severus’ lap, as if it’s just that easy. “I think it’s time.”

“Oh?” Severus hopes he doesn’t sound as discombobulated as he feels. “Time?”

Harry dips his head and he mouths at Severus’ neck. It’s ridiculously distracting.

“Heat.”

“I see.” Severus grips Harry’s thighs and holds him close. “Did you think being on heat might make the sex more palatable?”

Harry pulls back and he looks at Severus, his pupils blown with arousal. He laughs, the sound distressingly familiar and warm. “You’re a bloody idiot.”

“Your seduction technique leaves something to be desired.” Severus squeezes Harry’s thighs, hard. It draws a groan from Harry’s lips.

“I’ve been waiting because I wanted to show you I’m here for all the other stuff. Not just the fantastic shagging.” Harry wriggles in Severus’ lap. “And it will be fantastic, won’t it?”

“Possibly.” Severus stills Harry’s movements. “Why on earth would you keep your distance until your compulsion is strongest?”

Harry’s brow furrows. “Because. I thought it would be better to get to know one another first without being distracted by all the sex.”

Severus can’t control the growl that leaves his throat. “I’m glad you were so blissfully free from _distraction_. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to snatch those blasted books from your hand and bugger you over the arm of the sofa?”

Harry groans again. “I bloody well wish you had.”

“I was trying to help dissuade you of the notion I intend to repeat my earlier actions.” 

“I appreciate your restraint.” Harry grins, wriggling again in the most distracting fashion. “But I think I’m convinced. Besides, I’m bored of reading and I’m tired of pretending I don’t want this more than anything.” He buries his face in Severus’ neck, tonguing over the scars left by Nagini. “You smell _incredible_.”

“As do you.” Severus is nearly dizzy with the scent of Potter. He’s so close and so…irresistible. He clears his throat and manages to speak, which is a miracle in itself. “I need you to be aware that certain physiological-”

Harry wriggles again and groans, pressing his lips to Severus’ neck. “You might knot? Oh _god_ , I hope so.”

Severus _harrumphs_ and has a moment of wanting to chuck Harry out of his lap. His hands disagree and they pull Harry closer. “This is your first time, I wanted to make you aware of-”

“I’m aware.” Harry unplucks the buttons on Severus’ shirt. “I’ve read the books, I know what to expect. Unless you’re trying to tell me that if you knot inside me when I’m in heat, we’re going to end up married or something.”

Severus bites back a laugh. It’s very difficult to concentrate with Harry’s persistent fingers relieving his body of clothes. “It takes a little more than that. A discussion. A proposal. A bonding ceremony. None of which involve my cock.”

“Shame.” Harry’s clever fingers have managed to divest Severus of his shirt entirely. “I think I’d definitely say yes to your cock.”

“Brat.” Severus has had enough of trying to prepare Harry for any eventuality. He’s spent a lifetime holding himself back and with Harry warm in his arms he can think of no further reason to fight for the one thing he’s desired for such a long time. He reaches for his wand and murmurs a spell which leaves them both naked. The slick from Harry is warm on his thighs. “ _Better_.”

“I don’t like it.” Harry’s voice is small and he groans when Severus slides his hand over Harry’s cock. “It hurts and I hate being wet. It’s weird.”

“To the contrary.” Severus might not have fucked an Omega before but he’s read enough to know what he needs to do. He knows what Harry wants – genuinely _wants_ \- and it’s something Severus is more than obliged to give him. The scent from Harry is better than anything Severus might have imagined and the position of Harry in his lap, hot and slick on his naked thighs, sends arousal pulsing through him. “It’s intoxicating.”

“That’s the Alpha speaking,” Harry mutters. His cheeks are flushed.

“That’s me _and_ the Alpha, speaking.” Severus shifts his hand to grip Harry’s backside and he rocks against him, his prick slipping into the slick cleft between Harry’s buttocks. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry presses his face into Severus’ neck, biting lightly on the sensitive skin. “I just need you inside me. I’m ready, I don’t need prep or anything. Not now. I just want you to fuck me.”

Severus reaches beneath them and nudges Harry up just enough so he can position himself. When Harry sinks down onto Severus’ cock, it makes them both moan with the dizzying pleasure of the connection. The passage is greatly eased by the slick and Harry can’t seem to stop moving over Severus, rocking and letting out a low whine.

“How come you’re fucking me and not kissing me?” Harry’s voice is jagged and breathless.

Severus corrects his omission and pushes deeper inside Harry, tugging him closer and kissing him soundly. This time Harry doesn’t taste of blood and tears. The kiss is no less desperate and urgent than their first, but it feels fresh and new. There’s promise in the kiss and it’s tinged with the sort of hope Severus swore he would never allow himself to indulge.

“You feel exquisite.” Severus lets Harry move but it’s not long before his eyes become lidded and misty and Severus needs more. He wants more. He wants _Harry_. The boy who has wormed his way into Severus’ heart and home. For some unfathomable reason, he wants Severus and there’s scarcely been anything Severus has ever wanted more acutely than Harry.

With a growl, Severus shifts their position so Harry’s on his back and stretched out on the sofa. He pushes into Harry again and with Severus in control of their movements he’s able to take Harry harder and deeper. Everything is hot and wild around them. The magic pulses from Harry and Severus can’t stop his own powerful magic from meeting Harry’s as it gathers around their bodies. Severus has had enough experience to know this isn’t normal. It’s not just the way their bodies connect with such ease or the way Harry smells better to Severus than hot bread baking in the oven and the first cup of morning coffee. It’s not just the thrill of being trusted enough to be the first person to take this particular pleasure from Harry’s body. It’s the way their magic flexes, pulls and shifts. Where Severus is cold, Harry’s warm. Where Severus burns bright enough to hurt, Harry’s responding magic is a soothing balm. It’s enough to make Severus lose his head.

“ _Harry_.”

“Yes, god yes.” Harry claws at Severus’ shoulders and he pulls him in deeper. His voice shakes and trembles and Severus has him bent almost double. Severus can feel the swell at the base of his prick as it starts and he hopes Harry’s ready for it. The fact Harry comes with a shout as Severus begins to grow inside him suggests that yes, he probably is. “Don’t stop…don’t stop…still…hard.” Harry tugs Severus into a ferocious kiss and despite the fact Harry’s just spilled himself between them, Severus can feel very clearly that Harry _is_ still hard. He can almost feel the aching need through Harry’s magic and Severus responds with a growl and a push of his hips – letting Harry know the need is mutual.

Severus takes care not to pull out and rearranges them again so Harry’s back in Severus’ lap, whispering a spell to make the motion smoother and less awkward. The magic crackles around them and Severus captures Harry’s lips in a fierce, desperate kiss as he finally reaches his climax. It’s like running until there’s no air left in his lungs. Like drowning beneath the ocean waves and finally coming up for air. Severus lets Harry’s magic run deep through his skin until he feels it in his bones and his mind fills with the image of an eighteen-year-old boy in his office, sitting back on his heels and daring to hope for something better.

“Be careful not to move too much,” Severus says. He lets the power of his orgasm ebb and subside, keeping Harry close to his chest.

“Fuck,” Harry says. “ _Fuck_.” His voice is throaty but he sounds like he’s smiling. It’s a moment later when his lips press against Severus’ cheek, cool where Severus is hot. He _is_ smiling. Severus can feel the curve of his lips against his skin and it’s far too endearing. Blast Potter and his messy, post-sex glow and his open smile. Their eyes connect and Severus can’t help but meet Harry’s smile with one of his own. It makes the brat laugh and Severus pokes him in the side.

“I said, be careful.”

“We’re stuck together.” Harry rocks lightly as if to prove the fact. His cock already looks as if it’s taking an interest in proceedings again, a feature of his Omega nature which Severus is positive will leave them both ragged and exhausted.

“Indeed.” Severus holds Harry down in his lap and grinds into him. “Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

“I’ve got an idea.” Harry slides his hand over his cock, completely unashamed.

“I’m coming to rather like your ideas,” Severus murmurs. 

They move together again, until Harry pants out Severus’ name and Severus has to swallow back the sentimental codswallop on the tip of his tongue. Instead of speaking, he kisses Harry soundly, largely so he doesn’t have to put his racing thoughts into words. Harry spills over his own fist and he doesn’t stop looking at Severus for one moment, their foreheads pressed together and Harry’s name leaving Severus’ lips in a quiet whisper.

*

“I want to do everything with you.” They finally make it into bed and Harry props himself on his elbow, watching Severus. “Not just because of heat. After that.”

“I think I can allow that.” Severus catches Harry’s wandering hand. He’s sleepy and pleasantly sated, Harry’s solid presence making the room feel warm.

“You don’t find it weird?” Harry’s cheeks flush pink and Severus arches an eyebrow at him.

“What precisely do think I might find weird?”

“The heat.” Harry bites his bottom lip. “Being wet.”

“I’ve already told you I find it intoxicating.” Severus slides his fingers down Harry’s back. “Arousing. I’m only sorry I haven’t yet had the chance to taste you.”

“I’ve showered, now.” Harry’s breath catches and he wriggles back towards Severus’ fingers. “If you fancied it.”

“Insatiable.” Severus pretends to be put out, but really, he can’t bring himself to mind. He _does_ want to taste Harry. “Roll over, then.”

“Okay.” Harry is very compliant when it comes to sex. He looks over his shoulder. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that.” Severus trails kisses down Harry’s spine, across his shoulders and lower until he reaches the small of Harry’s back. The scent of Harry is dizzying. It’s stronger like this and it makes every Alpha instinct flare inside Severus. With a groan, he parts the cheeks of Harry’s backside and slowly tongues over his hole. He smells of soap and something that’s distinctly _Harry_ but the heat is the most overpowering scent and the one that makes Severus want to claim Harry for his own. He wants to bite at Harry’s skin and leave marks on his body until they’re both so thoroughly fucked out neither of them can more another muscle. He gives Harry’s backside an experimental bite, drawing a sound which is part groan and part laughter from Harry.

“Oi.”

“My apologies.” Severus smirks against Harry’s skin and then sets about taking him apart with his tongue. When Harry can’t stop pushing and wriggling, Severus slides two fingers into Harry. He doesn’t need any lubrication in the way he will when he’s outside of heat, and his body clenches and accepts Severus with eager readiness. Severus kisses every exposed bit of skin he can reach, tasting Harry’s perspiration as he fingers him to a desperate completion.

“I didn’t think I could come again,” Harry says around a yawn.

“Apparently you underestimated your own abilities.” Severus slides his fingers from Harry and rolls onto his back. His own prick gives an enthusiastic little twitch but there’s no hope of another round for a little while. His refractory period isn’t quite the same as Harry’s. “What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t do this outside of heat. You clearly enjoy it.”

“Oh.” Harry turns over, facing Severus. “Because it gets wet sometimes. Not all the time, but I’ve tried stuff myself when I’ve felt horny. I didn’t want to risk it.”

Severus groans at the thought of Harry trying to satisfy himself. He hums, thoughtfully. “Interesting. I think we should experiment when your heat is over.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Harry grins. “A lot.”

“We should probably recreate some of the same conditions.” Severus slides his fingers along Harry’s chest, giving him a dark stare. “Perhaps invest in some toys.”

“Oh Merlin, _yes_.” Harry shivers, a delighted smile making his face light up. He pauses. “Does that mean we’re doing this, then? No more Muggles, no more dancing on my own?”

“You were hardly on your own.” Severus rolls his eyes. He nods at Harry. “If you wish.”

“Do _you_ wish?” The uncertain look returns to Harry’s face and he studies Severus closely, as if waiting for a flicker of doubt or a harsh response.

“Potter, I have long since learned the danger of wishing for things.” Severus brushes his thumb over Harry’s cheek. “In this instance, however, I think I can make an exception.”

“Brilliant.” Harry leans in for a kiss.

“It might be a total disaster,” Severus says. He threads his fingers through Harry’s hair and lets him settle where he can listen to Severus’ heartbeat. 

“I expect so,” Harry agrees. “I’ll make you watch romantic comedies.”

Severus huffs. “I’ll make you get a job.”

“I’ve been thinking about accountancy.” 

“Out of the question.”

Harry laughs. “Maybe Quidditch?”

Severus tugs Harry’s hair, lightly. “Seriously?”

“Well, I like flying.” Harry shrugs. “I might speak to Shacklebolt about something at the Ministry.”

“The Aurors would have you back, without question.”

“Do you think it’s right for me, though?” Harry looks up at Severus, a question in his eyes. He’s so, so warm in Severus’ arms and that intoxicating scent of his fills the air around them. Severus pulls him closer.

“That’s not for me to decide.”

“I know. Still, I’d like your opinion all the same.”

“Do you wish to sit down and write your curriculum vitae together, Potter?” Severus pulls the blankets around them despite the fact Harry’s skin is hot to the touch. “I wasn’t aware careers advice was a top priority.”

“It’s not.” Harry lets out a jagged breath and presses close to Severus, seeming to enjoy the cosiness of the bed despite the heat in his skin. “Eventually, though.”

“Eventually,” Severus agrees.

He likes _eventually_. It carries the weight of possibility and future.

“Need to sleep.” Harry’s voice is a distant murmur and Severus’ own eyelids are heavy.

“Then sleep.” Severus closes his eyes, just for a moment. He determines to stay awake in case Harry needs him again but in the still room with Harry curled around him it becomes far too easy to drift off into a perfectly dreamless sleep.

*

Severus wakes to the sound of Harry shifting in bed next to him, a strangled whimper spilling from his lips.

“Harry?”

“Didn’t want to wake you.” Harry is curled in the foetal position, his skin desperately hot and his body trembling. “ _Fuck_.”

“Foolish child.” Severus presses his lips against the burning pulse on Harry’s neck. “I am quite aware of the demands of an Omega in heat. I expect you to wake me if you need anything. _Anything_.”

Harry takes a moment to get his breath back and rocks back against Severus with a groan. He speaks through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Severus traces his fingers over Harry’s nipples and runs a finger over the line of his hard cock, circling his hand around it. 

“I thought I could do it on my own. I didn’t think I’d need to go again, not after before.”

“It’s your heat, of course you want to _go again_.” Severus frowns against Harry’s skin and urges him onto his back. He looks into Harry’s eyes and finds them glazed, his lips plump from where Harry’s been biting them to try to stifle the sounds falling from his lips. He glares at Harry. “Don’t even think about trying to be a brave Gryffindor. Anybody would think you were asking me to suffer through a bout of _Cruciatus_.”

Harry laughs, although it comes out broken and pained. “Still, it’s not right to want it this much.”

“Isn’t it?” Severus pushes Harry’s legs apart and slides two fingers inside him. “Why?”

“ _Because_.” Harry groans as he pushes back towards Severus. “It’s all about me.”

Severus lets Harry feel the hard heat of his erection as he rubs his fingers inside Harry. “That’s not precisely true.”

“Oh.” Harry’s eyes widen. “ _Oh_.”

“Yes, oh.” Severus slides his fingers from Harry and urges him onto all fours, settling behind him. “Not to mention…” Severus pauses, not sure if he should expose himself so readily. He takes in the shiver and tremble which travels along Harry’s spine and it’s easier, somehow, to say this without looking into Harry’s eyes. “Not to mention, it has been _all about you_ for rather a long time.”

“It has?” Harry sucks in a gasp when Severus pushes into him and he groans, his hands twisting in the sheets. “Holy _fuck_.”

“I’m not feeling particularly saintly at the minute.” Severus fucks into Harry again, deep long strokes which leave him writhing and panting. He takes his time until they’re both incapable of speech and Harry’s whimpering and breathing out Severus’ name. 

Severus pushes Harry over the edge into his climax and follows shortly after, when Harry clenches around him. Although he doesn’t knot this time, the pleasure of his orgasm tears through him and he wants _more_. He doesn’t recall a time when he’s felt so urgent or so desperate for more taste – more scent – more _anything_ post climax. He lets Harry roll onto his back and he slides his fingers into Harry again, noticing his cock is still hard and red against his stomach. With a low moan, Severus takes Harry into his mouth as he works his fingers slowly into him, pushing and twisting and losing himself in the waves of desire and the pulsing magic which slides around them like a blanket. It takes a little longer than before, but Severus appreciates the ache in his jaw and the tug and pull of Harry’s hands in his hair. He appreciates every last moment of Harry’s body shaking and trembling beneath him and he wants to give Harry every pleasure.

His chest tightens as he thinks of Harry experiencing even one tenth of this when he was on his knees for Severus back in their days at the Ministry. The image of Harry, pink-cheeked and hopeful kaleidoscopes through Severus’ mind. He pushes his fingers inside him, Harry’s clenching body writhing and slick against his hand. He sucks Harry’s orgasm from him, the taste of Harry on his lips and in his throat making him dizzy. With a low growl, he slides his fingers from Harry and kisses him, deep and searching.

“Severus…” Harry’s voice is low and rough when they finally pull apart. He looks at Severus and his eyes are so bright even in the dark room. He looks thoroughly shagged out and inexplicably happy. The force of it assaults Severus and his chest tightens again, a wave of emotion overwhelming him. “You’re… _mine_.” Harry slides his hands over Severus’ chest, his voice rough. “All that bollocks about not wanting a mate. I don’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. It’s not just heat, either. It’s _you_. It’s been you for ages. For bloody _ages_. Even before I was bitten. When I used to think about you in class, when I thought you might die…”

“Shush, Harry.” Severus gathers him close and holds him tight, burying his nose in Harry’s shaggy mop of hair just to breathe him in. “I know. I know.”

“Did you mean it? When you said it was the same for you?”

Severus nods, knowing Harry feels it because his body relaxes and melts against Severus. 

“No more potions.”

“No.”

“No more waking up and trying to be quiet.”

“I promise.” Harry nuzzles against Severus’ chest, biting lightly like the cheeky brat he is. “I’ll wake you next time.”

“Do that.”

Severus should probably send Bill Weasley an owl. A thank you note. A bloody hamper from one of those shops in London that Muggles seem to like.

“What are you thinking?”

“About thanking Bill for his intervention.” Severus strokes his hand through Harry’s hair. “It was…timely.”

“I’ll say.” Harry wriggles under the duvet and his body seems to have cooled a little although he’s still warm against Severus. “We should have him over for steak and chips. He likes that. It’s his favourite meal.”

“Is that so?” The gnawing fear of being left behind worms through Severus at the ease with which Harry talks about _having Bill over_ , the rapid pace at which his space has become _theirs_. The familiar desire to push back and protect his own heart from any more pain rises within him. “Potter…”

There’s a sound from outside, which stops Severus from speaking. Harry’s hand stills on Severus’ chest and he looks up, his eyes wide.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes.” Severus swallows. “It’s just an animal.”

“Not any animal. A wolf.” Harry shivers, but he seems happy. He scratches the tattoo on his forearm almost unconsciously and the erratic beats of Severus’ heart slow to a normal pace. He has what he wants in his arms. He would be a damned fool to let that go – to let Harry go – in the interests of self-preservation. Severus has always resented people calling him a coward and he refuses to give people a reason to start now. If Harry _is_ right and his wolf and godfather are gambolling through the woods just waiting for Severus to mess things up then it’s even more of a reason not to give them the satisfaction of his failure.

Harry’s breathing slows and deepens and Severus falls asleep to dream of a tawny wolf bounding over a forest ravaged by Fiendfyre.

*

One month later, Harry’s magic unleashes in furious whips and cracks after a particularly heated argument. Severus drinks too much whisky and stares at the spot on the sofa Harry recently vacated. It doesn’t escape his notice that Harry’s phone has gone with him, to wherever he stormed off to in the howling wind.

Severus clutches his hand around the glass and his own magic pulses and shakes. The once warm house is cold and every part of Severus itches to bring Harry back. He can’t even remember what started the argument, now. He just remembers his last words to Harry – casting him out of his home with the same cool tone he used when Harry came to him in the Ministry. Severus knows he should find Harry, but part of him can’t stand the indignity of finding Potter with his Muggles. The notion of Harry’s hands on somebody else – of somebody’s hands on Harry – burns through him.

With a low growl, Severus Apparates to the bar he found Harry in on that first night together. He stays in the shadows and watches Harry at the bar, drinking shots. He lingers for long enough to see Harry make a transaction and curl his hand around whatever the Muggle gives him. His lips are curved downwards, his face fixed in a frown. He looks as though he’s struggling to breathe and he shakes his head as Muggle after Muggle approaches him.

After watching for a minute, Severus moves behind Harry and he puts a hand on his shoulder. The motion makes Harry’s trembling body still and the erratic waves of magic which are making the DJ curse his jumping music, settle.

“You left.”

“You asked me to leave.” Harry’s shoulders are tense, his posture unwelcoming. He rolls his drink around his glass and he downs the remaining liquid in one gulp.

Severus sighs, his hands squeezing Harry’s shoulders to try to pull some of the tension from them. “Since when are you in the habit of doing what I say?”

“Since never.” Harry doesn’t turn but there’s a lingering hope in his tone.

“Well, then. Why start now?”

“I can’t get it out of my head.” Harry sucks in a breath. “That stupid afternoon. I wish it had never happened.”

“Yet it did.”

“Can’t you Obliviate me or something?”

Severus slides his hands down Harry’s arms and pulls him tight against his chest. “Out of the question.”

“I’m still restless. It’s easier not to fly off the handle but my magic’s all over the place, even after everything we’ve done.”

“Of course it is. You didn’t imagine we’d fuck a few times and that would suffice?”

“More than a few times.” Harry turns in Severus’ arms. “I just want that feeling to stop.”

Severus chooses his words carefully. “I don’t imagine it ever will. It’s about managing it, rather than eradicating those feelings entirely.”

“Brilliant.” Harry pulls a face. 

“Are you at least identifying things which might help?”

“Being with you.” Harry picks at a button on Severus’ shirt. “It makes things quiet for a bit. I just don’t like how much I need it and everything goes haywire again when I think about that too much.”

Severus works through that in his mind. It makes sense, that for everything they do the more Harry allows misguided shame to take over in the aftermath of his release, the more the impact of their moments of physical connection are dulled by the mental push and pull.

“You’re ashamed.”

“Not of you.” Harry looks into Severus’ eyes. “Of _me_. The way I want things so much.”

“Things?” Severus arches an eyebrow.

“You. Sex. Being settled.” Harry shrugs and looks away. “It’s like I’m racing along at a hundred miles an hour, trying to make everything work. Do you know, part of me thought we might actually mate that first time? Part of me _wanted_ that.”

Severus frowns at Harry. “You know that’s not how it works.”

“I _know_ , but I wanted it all the same.” Harry lets out a sigh. “It sounds daft.”

“Not particularly.” Severus pauses, eyeing Harry. “You think the feeling is entirely one-sided? This desire to possess? For permanence?”

“I don’t know.” Harry looks at Severus. “Isn’t it?”

Severus turns his eyes to the heavens. “Potter, for whatever reason, it appears to be my lot in life is to run around ingratiating myself with Dark Lords and suffering the indignity of disco dancing because of _you_. What part of you imagines I might not be beholden to precisely the same kind of need that makes you so uncomfortable?”

“You don’t seem like the type,” Harry says. He looks confused.

“Ah. Well then, you clearly don’t know me at all.” Severus tugs his hand in Harry’s hair, pressing his words against the curve of Harry’s jaw and the pulse beneath his heated skin. “Allow me to simplify things for you.” He sucks at a spot on Harry’s neck, biting, marking and tasting the beat of Harry’s pulse on his tongue. When he pulls back, he rubs his thumb over the mark and looks into Harry’s eyes which look a bit misty after the kiss. “ _Mine_. I’m an Alpha, you idiotic little twit and far more than that, I’m a jealous, possessive, Slytherin. If I had not spent years trying to become a better man, I would have no qualms about ensuring you spent days on end in my bed and never let you out of the house again.”

“Fuck.” Harry sucks in a breath, rocking into Severus. “ _Yes_.”

“Perhaps we can do that, on occasion.” Severus brushes his lips against Harry’s cheek. “Bind you, keep you stretched out and naked for me all weekend. Would you like that?”

“I…” Harry’s voice cracks and he nods eagerly. “ _Yes_.”

“Well, then.”

Harry takes a shuddering breath and composes himself, adjusting his tight jeans with a wry smile at Severus. “I didn’t come here tonight for the men. I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” Severus takes Harry’s hand in his own, feeling the small pill between their palms. He watches Harry closely. “Was it for this?”

“At first. I thought it might help me forget.”

“I see.” Severus murmurs a spell and the pill disappears. He slides his fingers between Harry’s and wraps an arm around his waist. “I am unaccustomed to sharing my space with anyone and I can be bad tempered on occasion. That doesn’t mean I want you to disappear again.”

“I don’t want to disappear, either.” Harry looks away, biting his bottom lip. “I don’t want to lose myself when I’m just starting to work out who I could be.”

“There’s no rush.” Severus toys with Harry’s hair. “You seem to have a pressing desire to define your future.”

“Maybe it’s because I didn’t think I’d have one.” Harry takes a shaky breath, meeting Severus’ eyes. “Maybe it’s because on some nights, I didn’t want one anymore. Now the future's a possibility, I want to know what it looks like.”

“Foolish boy.” Severus brushes their lips together and keeps Harry close. He can feel the way the erratic strands of magic still quiver and pulse through Harry. “If your romantic notions of wolves and spirits are to be believed there are people eager for you to live. Your mother. Your godfather. Lupin.” Severus presses his lips close to Harry’s ear. “ _Me_.”

“I know. I wouldn’t throw it away, not really.” Harry wraps his arms around Severus and presses their cheeks together as they sway in an odd sort of dance. “Just when I think I’ve got it all under control, things have a tendency to go to shit.”

“We rarely have everything under control. That’s _life_ , Potter.”

“Well, it’s not easy.”

“Nobody ever said it would be.” Severus nudges Harry back so he can look into his eyes. “Is this going to be the reaction every time we have a disagreement?”

“I hope not.” Harry pulls a face. He lifts his hand to his forehead and he rubs it. “I don’t want this anymore. Everything feels strange. It was an escape, once. Now it just feels like somewhere I don’t belong.”

Severus sighs. “Despite my eagerness to spend a weekend with you bound to my bed, I suspect we may have spent too much time indoors.”

“What are you suggesting?” Harry’s eyes narrow and his magic shudders through Severus.

“Merely that perhaps it’s time to discuss those parameters I mentioned.”

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t want anyone else. I told you that.”

“Watching you with somebody else is not high on the list of my priorities either.” Severus chooses his words carefully. He slides his hand to the nape of Harry’s neck and presses his lips against Harry’s ear. “But if you need to escape, perhaps I might escape with you. We cannot hide at Spinner’s End forever.”

“I’ll have to tell people.” Harry gulps and he presses close to Severus. “I’ll have to tell them what I am.”

“They’re your friends. I’m sure they will understand.” Severus runs a soothing hand down Harry’s back and their magic meets and calms just as it did on the first night they spent together during Harry’s heat. “Make those appointments you insist you’re eager to schedule. Find your place in the world again – our world.”

“I don’t know how to begin.” Harry shrugs. He meets Severus’ eyes again. “I wanted you to come here tonight.”

“You wanted me to chase you around London,” Severus corrects. 

“Perhaps.” Harry sounds sheepish.

“Am I supposed to be grateful?” Severus rolls his eyes. He brushes Harry’s hair from his forehead. 

“No. Not really. I’m sorry about the plates.”

“I’m capable of using basic magic to fix broken china.” Severus thinks about the shattered crockery caused by the burst of magic flowing from Harry after their argument. “I believe it’s called being a wizard.”

“Still, I’m sorry.” Harry nudges close to Severus. “Can we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Severus steers Potter through the crowds and they find a spot to Apparate from together. “Perhaps you should consider seeing your friends.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Harry smiles. “It’s Hermione’s birthday, soon. We could have her and Ron over.”

Severus rolls his eyes at the thought of entertaining Granger and Weasley, but he can’t very well complain when the idea came about at his insistence. “If you wish.”

“Although…” Harry waits until the pull of magic lands them firmly in Spinner’s End. He works open the buttons on Severus’ shirt. “Although I still think this Omega thing isn’t quite settled.”

“No,” Severus agrees. “We wouldn’t want Mr Weasley to turn into a toad or for Miss Granger’s cake to be lit with Fiendfyre instead of candles.”

Harry bursts out laughing. “Definitely not.”

“We should take every precaution to ensure such a situation doesn’t arise.” Severus slides his hands down Harry’s back and squeezes his backside. 

“Oh, yes. Every precaution.” Harry grinds into Severus. “Several precautions.”

“Potter.” Severus pulls back for a moment and he cups Harry’s jaw in his hand, studying him. “There was a time when I, too, couldn’t imagine a future.”

“And now?” Harry’s leans into Severus’ hand, rubbing his cheek against his palm.

“Now I find myself nauseatingly keen to imagine a long and happy one.”

“It doesn’t much matter what it looks like, I suppose.”

Severus lets his gaze sweep over Harry’s face and he drinks in the messy hair and wide, green eyes. He plucks Potter’s glasses from his face and he sends them safely to the bedside table. “In some respects, no. In other respects, it matters a great deal.”

“Severus?” Harry’s voice sounds a bit rough and croaky.

“Yes, Harry?”

“I’d really like you to fuck me, now. Hard, if you wouldn’t mind. So I can feel it tomorrow.”

Severus mutters something about Harry being an insatiable brat, but he’s more than happy to accept the challenge.

Outside Spinner’s End the rain falls on the cobbles and a tawny wolf pads through the empty streets, under the gentle rays of light illuminating the pavement. A large shadow stretches out next to the wolf. The shadow and the wolf don’t quite match, with the shadow more black dog than wolf, taking on a shape of its own under the light of the moon and the fluorescent glow of the Muggle lamps.

_~Fin~_

**Author's Note:**

> Please show your appreciation for the author here, or on [LIVEJOURNAL!](http://hp-crossgenfest.livejournal.com/48988.html) ♥


End file.
